


1420

by rabidsamfan



Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-03-19
Updated: 2004-03-19
Packaged: 2017-11-05 02:01:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,172
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/401228
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rabidsamfan/pseuds/rabidsamfan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Toward autumn in Shire year 1420, Frodo finally has a chance to hear Sam's side of the story.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1420

For Frodo that year was a long frustration, and a gradual recognition that the healing he had hoped for was never going to come. The one satisfaction he had was in watching Sam heal; in seeing how Sam's work was recognized by everyone in Hobbiton and Bywater, and the nods of respect that his humble gardener now unconsciously accepted from gentlehobbits who would have scorned a son of Bagshot row before the trouble. Rosie's love had anchored Sam, and made him sure of himself again, and Sam had blossomed in her care. One fine summer night Frodo heard Sam whistling as he tended the grass on the verge, and he realized he had not heard Sam whistling since the Emyn Muil. That had been whistling in the dark, but this was a song -- a love song if Frodo remembered the words right.

Merry and Pippin visited often and helped Frodo with notes for the Red Book, and Rosie at last heard bits of the tale from Sam's own lips as the Travelers sat together and compared their memories. One night as the fire burned too low to see for writing, and the wine had flowed, and Rosie held him in her arms, Sam finally described the last few dreadful nights and days in more than the few words he had given Aragorn in Minas Tirith. And Frodo and Pippin and Merry sat in the shadows and pretended sleep and listened.

"It was like there was two o' me, Rosie lass, and both of 'em too tired to go on. The last water we found was in a cistern by the Orc road, and they'd near emptied it on their way to the battle. Scarce an inch at the bottom, and no way to tip that great stone thing and puddle it all to the side. I filled the water bottle a spoonful at a time, and then Frodo and me took turns climbing in and drinking as much as we could manage to lick off the bottom of the cistern. And we still had so far to go to reach the mountain -- and no more chance of finding water than we had of finding a loaf of bread."

"Once we were off the road though, we give up everything we carried or nearly. That helped some, but the very air of Mordor scorches the throat, and I could see Frodo's lips cracking and drying. And I knew if I once put the waterskin to my lips I'd drink it dry. So I didn't -- I just give him a mouthful now and then to keep him going. But I thought about water. I remembered Bywater pool and the Brandywine and Bruinen and Silverlode and Nimrodel and Anduin and even the little spring we'd found in Mordor when we were still in the hills. And morning came and we walked some more, and the air was foul and it hurt to breathe.. I couldn't eat much -- I was too parched, even for lembas. And there was part of me...no, all of me... that give up hope. But part of me wouldn't lie down and die, not with the job unfinished. I knew I'd never see the Shire again, or go paddle my feet in Bywater pool with you and your brothers. But I told myself I'd go on, and carry my master if I had to, even if it broke my back to do it. Go on till we got to the Mountain and found the cracks of Doom. 'Cause if I was hurting, he was in torment. The Ring was trying to stop him -- to find itself just for a few minutes on his finger, so that Sauron would know where it was and send his Black Riders after it. He went until he couldn't go no more, and I went with him, and when the cold night came and we had no blanket I kept him warm as well as I could, and felt him tremble all through the night." 

"The worst of it was, I couldn't take the Ring from him and help to bear the burden, not without driving him mad. Stone heavy it was when I had it on the chain around my neck and walked into Mordor, and it got heavier with each step. It got so he couldn't get on his feet, and he meant to crawl the rest of the way up the mountain, but as much as I hurt I wasn't in as bad a shape, so I took him pick-a-back. And oh, Rosie, you wouldn't believe it, but he was so light. I thought I'd have the Ring's weight to bear too, but I never felt it -- and my master he weighed no more than a child. It was grief done it, and that lying thing around his neck, and knowing he'd have to throw it in the mountain when he hadn't even been able to throw it into the fire at Bag End without Gandalf's help.

"I walked until I couldn't walk no more, and then I crawled, and then I couldn't even do that, and we stopped a bit. And while we rested we saw a road going up the mountain if we could get to it. I don't know who made it, but they did Sam Gamgee a favor, because without it I'da been done for sure. And then, of a sudden, I felt like we were almost out of time. As if all that long way we'd dawdled, and now had to make up for it. And Frodo started to crawl and I couldn't do more than crawl behind him, but when we got to the shoulder of the mountain we could see the Enemy's tower and his eye fell on us -- just a glance I know now -- he was looking up at the King at the Black Gate -- but poor Frodo felt it and it was all he could do not to put the Ring on. So I took his hands in mine and found my feet and carried him some more as best I could, slung behind like an old sack and his poor toes dragging on the ground." 

"We come to a place where the road turned, and I could see the doorway into the mountain, when Gollum found us. I barely saw him before he hit us, and down we went, and couldn't catch ourselves." Sam turned his hands so that the firelight touched the scars on the backs, still visible, even in this poor light. "Twas the one thing that could have made Frodo wake up, to have someone try to take the Ring from him, and he fought back something fierce. And that might not have mattered, except Gollum hadn't had no more food or water than we had ourselves, I think, and Mordor had hurt him too. So Frodo cast him down. And I could see my master like the star glass, full of light, and the wheel of fire on his chest, and Gollum like a shadow of pain and wanting at his feet. And he said, 'Touch me again and you will be cast into the fire,' and the vision passed, but there was Gollum still ready to strike, and I had Sting in my hand, so I put myself between them and told Mr. Frodo to go on while I dealt with him. And Frodo, he said farewell, and started up the last part of the way alone.

"And there I was with Gollum -- the one person I hated worst in the world -- and every right to kill him, given how he'd tried to kill me and nearly done for my master as well in Shelob's tunnel. I hated him so much I forgot to stay with Frodo, and help him fight the Ring, and that nearly ended us all with the Ring getting stronger as it got closer to where it had been made. 

Frodo stirred, and would have spoken, but Merry put a hand on his shoulder and met his eyes, shaking his head ever so slightly. They'd never get Sam to tell this story again if they interrupted now. And Sam needed to tell it -- at least once -- to lance the wounds before they could fester. 

"But Gollum, he didn't try to fight. Just lay on his face and scrabbled in the dirt and begged for the last few minutes of life left to him. He knew he'd go to dust once the Ring was destroyed, you see, and I knew it too. He was so thin and wretched, lyin' there. And I pitied him -- pitied him for five hundred years of never knowin' peace. Always wantin', never satisfied. My head said kill him, just for safety's sake, but my heart said no. So I chased him off, with a kick and a flea in his ear. And then I forgot about him and went after Frodo.

"The road led to a doorway, into the side of the mountain. I expect magic kept it whole and unblocked when the mountain was erupting. And through the door there was a passageway, black as night. Even the starglass wouldn't shine inside it. But as I crept in light came up from below and I saw that the passage ended in a ledge, sticking out right over the red hot river of stone. And right at the edge was Mr. Frodo, standing like a statue.

“I think if I’d kept quiet he would have stood there forever, wanting to Destroy the ring as much as he wanted to keep it. But I called to him and while he was distracted the Ring took hold. He said he chose not do what he'd come to do, but I don't know how much choosing was left to him -- Gandalf said that the Ring was most dangerous to the powerful, and Frodo'd had to be so strong for so long... It gave him a power, and the Ring was quick to turn it to Its own ends.  
And when he put It on his finger and vanished I knew that I'd have to stop him somehow. The path wasn't wide. He couldn't get past me. And the fire was right there. Fallin' would be the easy part. But before I could breathe, or bring myself to it, Gollum knocked me to the ground, and I cut my head on a stone."

And when I could see again there was Gollum, fightin' nothin' on the path. And I couldn't help Frodo, I couldn't even find my hands and knees yet. And then Gollum bit off my poor Master's finger, and I could see him again, fallen and bleeding. And Gollum took the Ring and capered about like a child with a toy, and he was so busy watchin' the Ring he couldn't watch his feet, and all of a sudden, down he goes, just like Frodo told him he would -- into the Fire.

"And the mountain answered like thunder as the Ring melted away, and I got myself up and fetched Mr. Frodo out of it as best I could. Somehow we found the door, but I don't remember how. My head was so bad I was seein' things -- towers and battlements high and proud, but founded on dungeons and horrid prisons --- and as I watched the towers crumbled, and the gates melted, and the walls fell away, and there was a great cloud of steam, like a wave from the ocean, and the skies cracked open with lightning and thunder, and a hot black rain. I saw the Nazgul, Sauron's riders there in the air all aflame until their flames went out and they fell out of sight.

"And then I heard a voice, and I turned and it was Frodo," Sam's voice shook, and tears glinted on his cheek. "And all I could feel was joy. He wasn't mad, he wasn't frightened, he wasn't fightin' no more, 'cause there was nothin' left to fight. Not since the Shire had I seen his face like that. The end of all things he said it was, and glad that I was there with him, as if there were anywhere else I could ha' been. And he said to forgive Gollum, because the Quest would have failed, and I found I could, after all.

"We went a little ways down the mountain, but there wasn't no place to go. The fires were pourin' out of the mountain, and we sat on an ash hill like an island in a river of flame. The rain was gone, hot ash in its place. I could see a patch of clear sky, away off to the north, and the wind was comin' from it, but the air was foul where were. So I held his hand and tried to keep him from thinkin' of the fire, and hoped that we'd be asleep when it touched us. And then I couldn't breathe no more and all was darkness.

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted at http://rabidsamfan.livejournal.com/1796.html
> 
> This was meant to be the beginning of a sequel to The Ringbearer and the Rose, but it can stand alone.


End file.
